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Sari Lyrics

Artist: Nellie McKay
Album: Get Away From Me

Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't apologize so muchthat it's jive it's a crutchI just used when I'm judgedbein' fudged by a face I can't erase and can't seecuz I misplaced a dossier or Monty Python CDor somethin' stupid like thatbut jesus is that so badto make my ego go splatlike a tire goin' flator fat on a big macI'm bein' attackedtit for tatyou fuckin' bureaucratsyou can just apologize back

(bridge)But I don't know when it comes and it goesall the highs and the lowsin this motionless psychosisieeieei and I die fadin' straight awayieeieei and I cry every waking dayI don't know what else to say

(chorus)I'm sorry for the messthe stupid way I'm dressedI guess I failed my testoh don't you know I'm sorry for my viewsI musta been confusedand yet you know that really I'm sorry for you

Well now I don't mean to offend, muchjust comprehendwhen you're female and you're fenced in andphen-phened to no endand no zen guide to men will help you fend off the brethrenand then the pen appearsand better than the oxygen networkor the sword or the spear or the forkor the bored pork-fed hordeit's a mooring postthe whore you'll miss the most when you're awaywhen you're in Snowshoe PAdoin' some play from Backstagethat deals with AIDS and race and gays andrelationships and balletand then you're like â‚¬Å“hey yay what'd you say?I can just sing my troubles away?â‚¬?but then you're fucked'cause you gotta make a buckand the whole world sucksand you're like a lame duckthat's lyin' dyin' tryin' to sell outbut there's no one buyin' and there's all this doubtand you can preen and dream and scream and shotbut your life's affliction is the fiction of Faust

(bridge)

I'm sorry for the timethe stupid way I rhymeI knew I shoulda chose a life of crimeI'm sorry for my bluesI guess it's all old newsand yet you know that really I'm sorry for you

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorryI also mirror this apologythis idealogy of sorryin part of the liberal theology that's leading us to hari-kariit's like a mythology, almostlike a malingering ghostas we slowly decomposewriting in the grave of the pollscryin' for Senator Wellstone and then proceeding to moanat our own supposed sabotage of the elections at homeâ‚¬Å“oh somebody phone home!the American people have spoken!â‚¬?now is that certain?maybe those nice Midwestern folks were just jokin'in any case there's no use in dopin' chokin' mopin' and sobbin'come on you disheartenin' dobbinssayin' sorry is my problemso to concludeI'm a little of a prudeso it's difficult for me to have to alludeto all this rude crude verbal baggagebut I manage cuz I'm a savage insideI may listen to Enya's greatest hitsand try to control my hissy fits with pridewon't get my hair dyedbut oh the onus of lyin' all the timeI don't wanna say, â‚¬Å“diiiie motherfucker!â‚¬?but I wouldn't mind if you didJanet Reno has no ego when devoured by the idand so before I flip my lid my criband get myself out of this bindyou can hear what's on my lips but you don't knowwhat's in my mind